


At the Pleasure of the President

by beachboundandbemused



Category: The Good Fight (TV), The Good Wife (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, American Politics, Couple turned casual lovers turned...?, F/M, Fluff and Angst, The Good characters in a West Wing universe, reconecting, the gang's all here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 12:55:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17244593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beachboundandbemused/pseuds/beachboundandbemused
Summary: “It was never the right person at the right time,” she defended throughout her campaign. In the midst of Diane Lockhart's first presidential term, is it possible that it could be the right time with the man that’s been right from the start? All of your favorite “Good” characters (and featuring a bonus OC) inhabiting a West Wing world.(Title not meant as a double entendre... though, there may be smut in chapters to come.)





	At the Pleasure of the President

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More American politics—just what we all need, right? But this idea (in various forms) has been festering for years, and so, here we are: I’ve immersed characters from The Good Wife/Fight into the world of The West Wing. If you’ve never viewed the latter, do not fret, as it shouldn’t be necessary to follow along. If you have, you’ll simply be a step ahead in gauging the general format of it all. In character placement, some were based on position, some based on character similarities to their TWW counterparts, and others based on character dynamics (such as with Diane and Will as President and Chief of Staff/Jed and Leo). A couple of characters have been altered in the slightest to fit a mold (particularly in Howard being less of a sexist buffoon), but they maintain their integrity for the most part. Further, I promise you, I’ve done my best to limit content heavy in policy and world affairs, not only to spare you all from more politics, but also because, though I am capable of keeping up with the (vast majority of) news, I fully admit that I am in no way White-House-brilliant.
> 
> Additionally, full disclosure, this prologue is all I have written at the moment (though I DO have nearly 9,000 words in notes and a very clear idea as to where I'd like to go with this piece)—it's probably rather irresponsible for me to be posting this now, especially given the fact that my plate is rather full at the moment with life as well as other writing projects. BUT, I first wrote this about a year ago (with the idea first coming, as I said, many years ago) and kept putting off posting and putting off posting and, well, the end of the year is having some kind of effect on me and I woke up with this urgent need to post today, NOW. ...And so here we are. Please bear with me as I work through this!

Diane Lockhart stood there, carefully taking in the image of the man before her—his once chestnut-brown hair now silver, his sparsely haired chest still muscular but so much softer than before, the wrinkles that were once only seen as he laughed now permanent fixtures. James Alden has aged, certainly (as has she), but he’s also just as handsome as he was the day they met. 

 

Sometimes when they’re together, in each other’s arms and hidden away from the world, his features seem to be the only indication that so much time has passed, their connection as palpable as ever. Then, other times, before and after those intimate moments, the passage of time becomes so very evident in their conversations and in just how far each has come in traveling their own path through life. 

 

Diane inhaled deeply before declaring, “I have news.” 

 

“News?” James repeated, brows shooting up.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Why don’t you come on over here and tell me, then?”

 

He stretched out an arm from his place sitting up in bed, sheets pooled around his waist, and watched her with lustful eyes as she pushed herself off of the bathroom doorframe and made her way closer, the hem of his blue button-down brushing at her mid thighs. Upon her arrival at the bedside, he gently pulled her closer yet and she was happy to comply, kneeling on the mattress before straddling his hips and settling on his lap, his hands quick to trail up from her knees and eventually encircle her, coming to rest on her lower back. 

 

“I’ve decided to do it.”

 

“Do what?” he asked, mind still hazy due to their previous activities.

 

“Run—” she began rather meekly, “run for President.”

 

Instantly his face broke into that boyish grin that had her falling head over heels for him some 40 years ago, back when their relationship first began. “So does this mean we have to stop meeting like this?” he asks, shifting his hips beneath her and lowering and tightening his grip on her ass for emphasis.

 

She let out a sigh then with the smallest hint of a scoffing laugh coming at the end, rolling her eyes before lightheartedly admonishing, “ _Really_ , I tell you, my oldest and dearest friend, that I am running for President of the United States an-”

 

Slipping the fingers of one hand into her locks, he guided her towards him and effectively cut her off, disarming her with a sound kiss. When they broke apart, his steely blue eyes met with her softer ones as he told her, “I am _so_ proud of you.”

 

She found herself nearly losing her breath due to his great sincerity in that moment, forcing her to simply allow her smile to express her gratitude. 

 

“Here, come’ere,” he shifted her off of his lap and they resettled with her curled up at his side, his arms securely around her. “ _President Lockhart_ —I like the sound of that.”

 

“Oh,” she shook her head, looking down. “No. The odds are _highly_ improbable that I’ll make it that far.”

 

He raised his chin, challenging, “And why not? In your reign as Governor you’ve made more progress than any of your predecessors over the past two decades at least, and in a Trump era no less.”

 

“Perhaps,” she modestly agreed, nodding her head to the side and a quirk playing at the corner of her lips, “but I’m not a good candidate. Being a woman coming off of twenty-sixteen and being an unmarried one with no family, at that?” She shook her head. “No, I’m not electable.”

 

“You’ve done quite well for yourself so far. And, your base is fired up.”

 

“I’ve done all right for myself so far in _Illinois,_ ” she countered, “ _And_ voters are going to be looking for a competent, _electable_ candidate over their ideal president. But, the Dems want me to get into the race if only to get the country talking about my governing model and to give the party at least the illusion of more options.”

 

“And so you’re doing this,” he beamed, “you’re really doing this.”

 

“I am,” her unsuppressable happiness evident in her features. “That’s actually part of why I’m here in New York—I met with Hillary this morning.”

 

“ _Met with Hillary,_ ” he repeated, tilting back his head and chuckling in great amusement, “she says so casually. And what did Hillary say?”

 

“ _Well,_ ” she laughed along, “while she can’t support me openly while Elizabeth Warren is in the race, she’s offered moral support and advice for the time being and has vowed to campaign for me should I, by any chance, make it any further.”

 

“And what about Warren?” 

 

“I’ve spoken with her, and while she is of course running, she’s also been happy with the work she’s been doing in the senate during the Trump administration, and, since she knows the party’s trying to get more of a race going this election anyway, she’s all for having one of the slots being filled by another qualified woman.”

 

“So it’s all settled then,” he remarked.

 

“I announce in three weeks.”

 

The two shared a genuine smile before he placed a kiss to her hairline. After settling into a comfortable silence, he mused, “It is kind of nice, isn’t it?”

 

“What?” 

 

“Now having the knowledge that we made the right decision to go our separate ways all those years ago. I mean, look at you, look at all you’ve accomplished.”

 

“You’ve done well, yourself.”

 

“Yeah,” he said, considering. “But you… you’ve had an impact on so many people, you’ve made real _change._ ” He looked over at her, stroking her hair as he quirked his lips, “…And now you’re gonna be President.”

 

She threw her head back, laughing that laugh of hers. “I wish you’d stop sayi-”

 

“No,” he shook his head. “It’s gonna happen, I can feel it.”

 

“You’re delusional,” her laughter persisted.

 

He smiled back, enjoying her presence before conceding, “Maybe. …But I’m right about this one, I know it.”

 

Giving him a gentle smile and with her laughter subsiding, she relented with, “Time will tell, I suppose.”

 

“Yeah,” he nodded. “But no matter what, you’ve got my support, kid.” And then, “…You always have.”

 

“I know.” She brought a hand to his cheek then, stroking it with her thumb before pressing her lips to his once more, but this time with the kiss deepening and leading them back to where they have been oh so many times before. And, as always, she is sure to be present in the moment as their future is forever uncertain… especially now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again it may be a bit before I update (and I apologize for that!) but I just needed to get this out in the universe. Hope you enjoyed this start!
> 
> Chapter 1 will pick up approximately 2 years later, six months into [spoiler alert!] Diane's presidency.


End file.
